Mia:
Everyone else continued to party in the front of the bus while Michael and I settled down in our bunks. I grabbed a mix CD Michael made me years ago, and he got out some cards. It was our tradition. While everyone else played drinking card games up front we played rummy in the back. "Last night you were lucky," he said, dealing the cards.
"I killed you, boy."
"I let you win," he argued.
"Sure you did."
"Where are we playing next?" he asked.
"Axis in…in Boston," I replied. "It's pretty intimate."
I said this as our hands brushed past one another in the card pile. It reminded me of when we were teenagers and he acted as my algebra tutor. I used to freak out when our knees would brush against one another under the table. And then when our hands touched when he would show me how to do a problem.
Then he was my guitar teacher. Uh, hello touching! I nearly made out with him right on the spot one night but instead…well, anyways…. I still shake when I think about it. I still shake when I think about all the times-
"Intimate is good," he replied softly.
"Yeah," I mumbled. "I guess."
"What?" he asked, clearly not in the same frame of mind as me.
Okay, I'm going to admit here and now. Although I love Felix, and am IN love with him, I still have warm feelings for Michael. What can I say? He was my first love. The first guy that I had a serious crush on. The first guy I- well, you know that. That's all though, not something I would actually, consciously pursue. I sound like a love sick teenager don't I?
I'm sure I would have gotten over the crush easily enough had it not been for my being in the band. If I had decided to go to finish school like Felix suggested I could be in a totally different place.
"What's wrong?" Michael asked, putting down his cards.
"Huh? What? Nothing's wrong. Why would something be wrong?" I asked.
"Because you are doing that thing," he replied making a pouty face.
"What thing?" I asked, looking away.
"You keep scratching your nose. You do that when you're nervous."
I smiled. We knew one another too well. "I'm just thinking about high school. How everything was easier."
He drummed his fingers against the card table. "Was it?"
"When he was a bit more self involved."
He laughed, "He's always been self involved," he managed between gales of laughter.
I glared at him. "Not true…now he's checking up on me a lot."
"So? You are his girlfriend. And you mentioned you guys might get engaged?"
I scratched my nose again. "Yeah well….I don't know."
He looked at me, reading my expression. "About?"
"We've been together a long time," I replied. I had actually lied earlier, to see what he would do about me getting engaged to the guy he clearly hated with a passion I couldn't understand. I was always playing games with Michael.
"Off and on," he countered.
"Yeah, well, off and on for a long time…"
"Six years…" he agreed.
"Yeah….I mean…. Yeah. I wasfourteen when I went out with Kenny. Then there was that guy…what the hell was his name?"
"We called him Napoleon. I think his real name was…Howie. Like the Backstreet Boy."
"Ugh,
I don't want to talk about it. I have to deal with it in a few days
anyways. Can we change the subject?" The next person would be
someone I really didn't want to talk about.
He sighed,
"Sure."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to a Backstreet Boys song. "Do you seriously still like this crap?" he said after it was over.
"I like that song," I replied. "It's kind of sad. The guy falls in love with his best friend and doesn't know what to do. Sad, don't you think?"
He looked away. "I'm gonna get some sleep. You should too."
My bunk was right by the engine so Michael and I generally shared his bed. Purely for logistical reasons we shared a bed for this one tour. Plus, I always slept better when he was around; but we still had a hard time sleeping. " Kirsten Dunst or Buffy," I cut through the silence.
"Huh?"
"Post Armageddon life mate," I replied.
"Clearly it would be Buffy. Adam Levine or John Mayer," he replied.
"Michael, that is unfair. I started you off with an easy one," I replied, leaning up on my elbows.
"Choose," he replied, going up on his elbows as well.
"Well, Adam is quite good looking, but seems to have an anger problem. I wouldn't want him writing songs about me, that's for sure. So I'd say John Mayer."
"That guy always looks like he is on drugs."
"Some say that about you," I countered.
He sighed as his phone rang. "Who the hell is gonna call me this late? It's almost four in the morning," he said grumpily, mad that he couldn't respond to my last comment.
"Maybe your girlfriend?" I asked, plopping my head back to my pillow.
He rolled his eyes, "You got that right. Hello?"
MICHAEL:
"Hey, I was waiting for a phone call," Elle greeted.
"I told you I had a show tonight then I was going out with the crew."
"But you always call on Tuesday nights. It's a tradition."
I looked over at Mia, fast asleep. "I'm sorry Elle. I just had a lot going on."
"I-It's okay. I just was worried. Ya know?"
I felt like shit right then, "About what?" I asked.
"I dunno…about the road. I don't know what it is, but lately I have a feeling that something is gonna happen out there…and the tabloids about you and…."
"Like I'm gonna get hurt?"
She thought for a minute, "No. I am. I sound like a foolish girlfriend huh? Jealousy huh?"
"Don't worry, Elle. Nothing happened tonight, I swear it," I replied, squeezing by my lie. Well, nothing had. I just was with the love of my life. Nothing was happening though.
"You
swear."
"Elle, I was with Mia all night. She was in one of her
control freak moods that she learned from Lilly."
Elle liked Mia…. a lot. Maybe that's why Mia couldn't stand the sight of her. Elle thought of Mia as a sister figure to me. Last year Mia had to make an official visit to the Sydney Opera House because her grandmother had fallen ill while Mia was visiting in Genovia. Elle took it upon herself to be Mia's official tour guide. The only thing is, she's not from Sydney. She's from Perth and knew very little about the city. She just loved being in the newspapers as Mia's assistant. Of course, it was about half her face in the picture and her name wasn't in the caption, but she still was fascinated by that half face. After all, I never took her as my date to things….I told her that I wanted the fans to think I was available.
I know, that's totally a boy band thing. But she fell for it still. She didn't know that there was one person I'd give up my image for. God…. if she only knew the thoughts I had of Mia. The thoughts I had to push away only ten minutes before. Or what we'd done together when we were younger. What I'd like to replicate.
"Good.
I know she'll keep you boys out of trouble, right?"
"Of
course. I'll see you in a few days, okay?"
"Sure."
"Bye."
"Lov-"
I hung up before she could finish her sentence. Then I shut off my phone so she wouldn't call back. "She doing okay?" Mia mumbled into the pillow.
"Fine. I think she's gonna try to make us a serious thing when we get back. I'm gonna have to end it."
"Why didn't you do it right then?" she started going back to her elbow perch.
"Because I…I dunno. Maybe because you were here. I didn't want to start something, ya know?"
She nodded, "Sure pal."
We kind of froze after she said PAL. I mean, that's all we were- are. But I dunno, 'pal' doesn't really sum us up, ya know?
"Um…when we get back to New York we have to see the new shirts we're selling on the website. And post the new pictures from tonight," she said, turning all business.
I nodded sleepily, or pretended sleepiness. "Okay Mia."
"And pick out your clothes for Late Night."
"Okay Mia."
"Michael?"
"Yeah?" I said with a yawn.
"Me or Buffy?"
"Both of you are pretty damn bossy," he replied. "Both are blonde, or at least you used to be. She's kind of short though. Plus, she agreed to be in Scooby Doo 2. Totally you."
I
could swear I saw a smile creep on her face. "Okay. Good night
Michael."
"Night Mia."
Very early the next morning we were pulling into Downtown Boston. I looked at Mia as she bobbed her head along with her iPod. The bus drove down Tremont Street, past the unexpecting Orpheum Theater where we had seen Weezer all those years ago. Where we had been so close that I had to hold onto her or she'd have been sandwiched with some weird looking guy.
I started playing the opening notes to "Sweater Song" on my guitar. Manny joined in, drumming his sticks against the table. We were being idiotic, but didn't really care too much .
Mia finally took off her head phones and began to yell at us to shut up, but then smiled when she recognized the song. She started singing along with me and looked at me after she realized where we were.
"That was a great concert," she said laughing, after we finished goofing around.
"I was not there," Orlando replied out of the blue.
"You
don't like Weezer," I reminded him. "Or you didn't then.
You were listening to Enrique then-"
Mia started giggling.
"I was not!" he argued, turning red.
"Well, I know I had fun that night of the concert," I said glancing at Mia for a response.
She just stared out the window, then picked up her cell phone.
MIA:
A rush of teenage memories struck me as we passed by the Orpheum Theater. I had actually thought, last time I stood in that theater, that I would have been with Michael by now. That it was just an eventuality. But now….well, not so much.
I stared at him and started jumping around while we goofed around playing Weezer. I don't know if anyone knew the significance of the band to Michael and I. I sometimes wondered if he had remembered, but after that it was clear that he had.
"Hey Dude," I whispered into my phone under the privacy of my bunk.
"Hey," he replied.
"Remember you asked if I wanted to stop by that secret show tonight?" I asked.
"Yeah. You are coming?" he asked.
"I need two tickets," I replied. "We'll be by after the show at Avalon."
"Great," he said enthusiastically. "I'll see you tonight then. Maybe we could get some-"
"Thanks man," I said with a sigh and hanging up.
"Do we have to?" Kevin whined as Lilly led all of us to a restaurant where we were going to be interviewed for Boston Magazine. We had an interview, a quick photo shoot, a sound check and then the show. Woot.
"Yes," she snapped. Ouch. She and Manny had had a fight the night before. Supposedly no one knows about them. I mean, yeah, they've been off and on forever, but they've never actually said that they were together. It's quite sad actually.
I rubbed her back and tried to look sympathetic. Boys are stupid creatures.
Before I knew it someone was literally on my back. "Michael, OFF!" I screamed, laughing.
"Carry me Mia!" he said in a girlish way. He was trying to cut the tension that Lilly and Manny had imposed on us.
"What do you think I've been doing all these years?" I teased, pushing him off of my back.
"Bitch."
"Man whore," I replied, winking at Manny, who actually looked really sad.
Manny smiled weakly at me, and then rushed into the restaurant.
I sat at the booth next to Michael and Orlando. Lilly had called ahead and ordered our snacks so we could eat while we did the interview.
The interviewer showed up just as Manny jammed two French Fries up my nose.
"How…attractive," he joked.
"Thanks, I like to pick up men like this," I joked.
Michael leaned down and chomped on the bottom of one of the fries. "You are so nasty," I said laughing. The photographer took a picture of him doing that.
They asked us a bunch of questions about our newly found success and how I was able to mesh princess duties and touring. "Well, usually I don't have to do very much as a princess. I did have to miss a few dates over the winter when the Prince of Monaco died. I had to represent the family since my brother and my father were in the middle of a trip in Africa."
"You are related to the royal family of Monaco, right?"
"Distantly," I replied, pushing Kevin's face away from me. He was mugging for the camera.
They went onto asking us about musical inspiration. "What band can you always rely on to get yourself in the mood?" the reporter asked.
"Weezer," Michael and I both said at once.
Everyone started laughing. "Not Tired of Sex, I hope," the guy asked laughing.
I knew I was bright red. I peeked at Michael, who just continued on as if we hadn't looked silly right there. "I have to say, the first time I really enjoyed sex I'd listened to Weezer that entire night," he admitted.
"Best lay?" the guy prompted.
Michael looked at the ceiling. "She was better than that," he admitted. I was rapt by this conversation while everyone else goofed around. "A lay is just a one night stand worthy kind of girl."
"Is this your current flame, Elle—?"
Michael laughed, "Don't write that I laughed at that. No, it was not Elle. Someone else," he said looking shyly at me.
The reporter, who by the way, was named Jason (an: not named after Him. After another person. You get a cookie if you figure it out, Liss don't' tell anyone), looked at Michael as he looked at me. "Was there ever any-"
"No," we both said quickly, our gaze broken.
"Oookay, how about you, Mia?" Jason asked. "What is it about Weezer that just…."
"Rivers Cuomo is a sexy bitch," I said laughing. "Plus, I'm friends with Brian Bell now. We're homies."
"For shizzle," Kevin cut in.
"I never took you guys for gangstas," Jason said laughing.
"We're not," Michael argued. "Kevin just wants to be a hip hop playa. It won't happen."
"I've got the cornrows," Kev argued.
"Yeah, so did Bronson Arroyo," I replied, "That didn't help his hip hop career."
"Who the fuck is that?" Kevin asked.
Jason and I both stared at Kevin. "He's a pitcher for the Boston Red Sox. He won the World Seri-"
"God, shut up now," Kevin said, un-interested now.
We went into a studio for the photo shoot. It wasn't common for musicians to do this but I've always had a soft spot for Boston, as has Michael. I had to wear a Red Sox T-shirt that simply stated that Johnny was my Homeboy (they are painting me as this huge rebel for becoming a rock star instead of royal, plus I like the Red Sox over the Yankees, blasphemy in New York!)
I came out of my dressing room just as Michael did from the boys. He was wearing a vintage t-shirt that I knew he hated the second I saw it. "So sexy," I teased, pulling at the hem of it.
"Why can't I pick out my own clothes?" he whined.
I squeezed his cheeks. "Cuz even though you have an absolutely adorable face you have no taste in-"
Then a very familiar tune came from where everyone else was; interrupting my sentence.
We both turned to see that the rest of the band had put on Weezer's best CD, (The Blue Album, of course) on. I rolled my eyes at Michael and walked over to where we were taking a picture.
Kev came up behind me. "Mia, if you want, we can go into the dressing room and I can help you get rid of all that sexual frustration."
Michael shoved him and we went on with the shoot as quickly as possible. Without Weezer playing.
Author's Note: Time to go study now. Wish me luck.
